


Lost

by PhoenixSolo



Series: Til The End Of The Line [2]
Category: Avengers infinity war - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), Captain America Civil War, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ANGST MONSTER, Because it’s me, Bucky Barnes pain train, Bucky is a fluffy marshmallow, Bucky needs a hug, F/M, Give him love, Infinity War, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and you’re a sucker for angst, choo choo motherfuckers, fight me, its comiiiiiing, sex is still awkward, these two idiots, tw: child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSolo/pseuds/PhoenixSolo
Summary: You're gonna miss thisYou're gonna want this backYou're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fastTrace Adkins, You’re Gonna Miss This





	1. Prologue

**Early summer 2016**

The labor pangs started around one in the morning. Laila Evans sat up with a cry and a hand to her stomach. 

_It’s too soon, I’m only at 34 weeks!_ She fumbled for her phone, trying to call an ambulance to meet her at the entrance of the apartment complex, then thought better of it. It was a bad neighborhood and a laboring woman was as likely to be robbed as she was to find help. Against her better judgment, she grabbed her keys and her labor bag and staggered to her car. 

Mrs. Holmes met her on the stairwell. “Now honey, I KNOW you aren’t thinking of driving to the hospital like that—“ 

“I don’t have a choice—ah!” With a cramp and a gush, Laila’s water broke on the stairs. “Shit—I’m sorry—“ 

“Don’t you worry about that, child, I’ll clean it up.” Mrs. Holmes, her neighbor and the landlord, ducked into a supply closet and grabbed a wet floor sign and propped it over the puddle. “I’ll drive you. You don’t want to risk an accident.” 

Grateful, Laila gave the short, dark woman her keys. Mrs. Holmes stepped into her apartment and grabbed her purse and sent a discrete message. 

_From NanaBear: she’s in labor. 34 weeks. We’re going to the hospital._

_SugahBear: Okay, I’ll meet you there._

Mrs. Holmes took Laila into the ER where, due to gestational age, she was promptly hooked up to multiple machines and wheeled into the OR. Mrs. Holmes was left in the waiting room by herself. 

“Is she doing okay?” A tall, dark skinned man wearing a trench coat and an eye patch appeared next to her. 

“She’s been well. It’s too soon for her to be in labor, though.” 

“She’s pretty strong, she’ll get through it.” 

“Any family?” 

“None related. Parents and brother died when she was eight and grandparents died when she was in training.” 

“So she’s going through this on her own?” 

“Not alone. She’s got the Avengers, whether she knows it or not.”


	2. You’re Gonna Miss This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You're gonna miss this_   
>  _You're gonna want this back_   
>  _You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast_
> 
> Trace Adkins, You’re Gonna Miss This

**EIGHT MONTHS LATER**

“Mrs. Holmes, I’m gonna be behind on rent again.” Laila’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ve been having trouble finding work since the twins were born.” 

“We’ve all been there, child; just catch up when you can.” Mrs. Holmes smiled. 

Laila had taken the twins out in a borrowed stroller to try and find a job, something she had been doing for almost three months. The twins had been born at 34 weeks and had spent several weeks in the NICU as a precaution. She had had a cesarean section and social services wouldn’t take her on as a social worker until the kids were old enough to be left with a sitter but when that moment came, the position had been filled. Laila needed to keep food in her children’s bellies and to do that, she needed a job. WIC and food stamps plus the state temporary emergency fund had sustained her through pregnancy but in order for the benefits to continue, she’d have to find work. 

She had been denied multiple jobs just because she had the twins with her and inevitably, one of them would wake up and fuss. Her case worker Lucy had told her to find a sitter but how does one find a sitter for two eight month olds with next to nothing? The emergency fund paid for the apartment and the utilities and the food stamps and WIC paid for food, but Lucy was behind the eight ball on the babysitting assistance and Laila was relegated to the waitlist. 

The jobs that she _had_ were temporary jobs; one she was let go from because one of the twins had gotten sick and she missed ten days worth of work. 

In the meantime, to justify Mrs Holmes giving her a place to live, Laila did odd jobs around her apartment complex in Harlem for the people who didn’t have the ability or finances to have something fixed. Thanks to YouTube, Laila learned how to change an air compressor on a 1991 K1500, how to fix a trash grinder in a sink, how to prepare multiple ethnic dishes and how to do a multitude of things she didn’t already know how to do. 

What Laila didn’t know what that her rent was covered. Mrs Holmes received an “anonymous” stipend for Laila’s rent. 

“She won’t accept anything for charity, Sugar Bear; she’s not that type.” And she wasn’t: Laila preferred to exchange favors for favors. With the dearth of able bodied adults in the complex, there wasn’t really anyone to do a babysitting co-op with aside from Mrs Holmes. She would watch the twins while Laila worked. 

“Oh I know. At the very least, put it in a savings account for her. In the meantime, I’m trying to secure a job for her.” 

“She’ll refuse to work for SHIELD again...” But Mrs Holmes did set up a savings account and any time Laila was late on rent or needed help with food or diapers or formula, Mrs Holmes would pull a little from the savings account and appear to “supplement” Laila’s needs. 

They both knew that the money would be refused if she knew the source of it. 

The elderly citizens of the complex would help out: Widow Kaslovski knitted blankets and for the twins. Old Mr. Nguyen would cook pho and curry and Miss Germanotti would prepare lasagna and manicotti for Laila to store in the freezer. Mr. Ziegler would bring her kids trinkets from his various children’s world trips, never mind the twins were not old enough for them. In return, Laila would help bring in groceries, prepare meals, run for medicine, anything she could to help out. 

Anything to forget. 

Barnes was alive. She didn’t know where he was—and that was the problem. She wanted to know, if only to keep her children safe from him. 

She didn’t want him to know about the twins. 

Right now, Laila was preparing Nora, her daughter, for bed. James had fallen asleep already about ten minutes prior. Nora was violently opposed to being placed on the bed to be changed and vocalized her opinion quite loudly. Laila tutted and shushed her daughter to no avail. She let Nora fuss as she pulled on the baby’s pajamas then swaddled her and put her on her shoulder. Nora immediately quieted and after a few moments fell asleep. 

She put the baby in her crib and snuck out to the bathroom, planning on heating some manicotti for her dinner. No sooner than she had put a serving in the microwave to heat up than a lusty wail arose from the babies’ room. James was awake. 

While Laila was terrified of their father finding out about them, she didn’t have any other name to give to her son. Her brother would be rolling in his grave if he knew there was someone named after him and her grandfather would haunt her til the end of her great grandchildren’s days if she even considered naming a child after him. She played it off by saying she had a third cousin named Buchanan and a favorite uncle named James which seemed to placate anyone, and Laila would call him JB as a nickname. 

She needed to stay off the radar. Not just with him but with the organization that owned him as well as the one that hunted him. She had children now and they were her top priority. 

So as soon as she had recovered from her injuries, she had used the last of her money to go back to New York City, where she lost herself in anonymity. At four months pregnant, she found herself on the streets with literally the clothes on her back and her ID. She managed to get into an emergency shelter and her case was fast tracked; at five and a half months pregnant, she found Mrs Holmes through Lucy. Mrs. Holmes had taken pity on her and allowed her a room in a rough neighborhood. 

It was a studio apartment, the only other doors being the ones to the bathroom and the closet. Almost nothing worked but at this point, it was a roof over her head. 

But at this particular point, it was a very noisy roof: both twins were awake and demanding attention. Laila sighed and walked over to their cribs. 

While she couldn’t deny that she was terrified of their father, she couldn’t say she didn’t still love him either. But her last memory of him was of a knife being driven into her lung—held by James Barnes. 

As she cuddled her twins back to sleep, Laila sighed and drifted off, distantly remembering the warmth of his body against hers. 


	3. Cowgirls Don’t Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Cowgirls don't cry, ride, baby, ride_   
>  _Lessons in life are gonna show you in time_   
>  _Soon enough you gonna know why_   
>  _It's gonna hurt every now and then_   
>  _If you fall get back on again_   
>  _Cowgirls don't cry_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Brooks and Dunn featuring Reba, Cowgirls Don’t Cry

JB had thrown his spoon on the floor for the fifth time in as many minutes when Laila just gave up and gave him a plastic bowl of cheerios. “My back hurts enough, I’m not playing fetch.” She rubbed where she had bumped hard on a counter trying to fix Mr Nyugen’s ceiling fan. 

The baby cooed in response, then replied by slamming his hand into the cereal and giggling as they flew everywhere. Nora joined in and fairly soon, their contagious laughter had Laila joining in. 

As the giggles petered out, there was a knock at the door. Laila made sure the twins were secure and went to answer it. 

Standing before her was Captain America, also known as Steve Rogers. She had seen him in the same Smithsonian exhibit everyone had. Tall, muscular and dressed in a pair of jeans, white shirt and brown leather jacket, he ran his hand through his hair. Laila noted that he had grown a beard as well.

He was holding a piece of paper and looking lost. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m looking for Laila Evans?” Rogers turned summer sky blue eyes towards her—and froze. 

The woman before him was petite but not dainty, with some extra weight to her frame. She had dark auburn hair with a streak of grey down the right side and eyes that tended more towards grey than blue. There was a hardness to her that he couldn’t place but it immediately softened when she heard one of the children cry. “Come in, sorry—I’m feeding my kids.” 

Rogers walked into the rundown studio apartment, glancing around. His source wasn't kidding: it was sparse except for children’s toys and a pile of laundry that had been folded but not put away; the lone couch was shabby but not in disrepair. A screen separated the sleeping area from the living area and Rogers saw the silhouettes of two cribs but no adult sized bed. The couch had a folded military surplus blanket and a thin pillow piled on it and deduced that she was ether sleeping on the couch or it was a pull out couch. 

He noted no television or radio but did spy an ancient looking portable CD player hooked up to some speakers and a pile of children’s musical CDs. The only evidence that an adult lived there was the pile of bills on the table and that the apartment was clean. 

He stepped into the dining room/kitchen area, following Laila towards a folding card table with a large stain in the center and mismatched chairs.

In two infant chairs strapped to the larger ones were two children that couldn’t have been more than a year old. They both had dark, almost black hair and eyes that also tended towards grey like their mother’s but with the barest hints of blue—presumably from their father. They looked familiar to Steve, but he couldn’t place how. 

“Are you Laila Evans?” 

“Yeah. I know who you are, Captain Rogers.” Laila pulled out two chipped glasses from her cabinet and a faded filter pitcher of water from the fridge. “Water? I’m sorry I don’t have anything else but formula.” 

_“She has literally nothing, she’ll jump at the chance for her kids,” he said to Rogers. “We’ve been trying to get her back into the fold for her safety, for those kids’ safety.”_

_“Whose children are they? Why are they so important to you?”_

Rogers never got an answer to either question.

When Fury told him that this woman had nothing, he wasn’t lying. He saw a tool bag, a diaper bag, that pull out couch and everything else when he had come in. 

“Doctor—“ 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, let me stop you right there.” Laila turned and brought the cups over. “I’m not a doctor. I have a degree in psychology but I’m not a doctor.” 

Steve accepted the water glass and took a sip. “Okay, Miss Evans, then. I’ve come with a job proposal.” 

Laila froze and for a few seconds, there was no sound. The spell was broken when JB threw his spoon at Steve and babbled something. 

“Fr—from who?” Laila tried to keep her voice even as she picked up the spoon and dropped a handful of Cheerios on each twin’s tray.

“Nick Fury.” 

“No.” 

“You haven’t even heard me out.”

Laila put the pitcher in the fridge and slammed the door. “I said NO. The last job of his I did, I nearly DIED, Mr. Rogers. I can’t risk that anymore—“

Rogers raised an eyebrow as the door fell off of the fridge; Laila grabbed the door before it could crash to the floor and reinstalled it with the ease of one who had had to do it multiple times before. “I’m not asking you to risk your life, I’m just asking you if you’re still looking for a job.” 

After the door was firmly in place, Laila planted her hands on the table and leaned towards Rogers. “I will fucking die before I work for SHIELD again.” 

“You haven’t heard?” 

“Heard what?” 

“SHIELD doesn’t actually exist anymore.” 

Laila stood up. “...when?” 

“A couple of days after you left for Romania,” Rogers said. 

“What happened?” 

Rogers chuckled. “There is not enough caffeine in the world for me to explain this to you, but I’ll try.” 

As he did, Laila let James and Nora down from their high chairs and watched them as she asked a question or two. 

“...so I—we think HYDRA managed to manipulate Fury just enough to use you to flush out B—someone.” 

Laila, with her psychology knowledge, got the distinct feeling that Rogers was hiding something. “I don’t believe you. I won’t work for anybody affiliated with SHIELD and you need to leave.”

Nora, ever the sensitive soul, began to tear up and her “eh eh eh” signaled the onset of a healthy cry. JB threw the toy that he had in his hand at Rogers, then crawled for his sister.

Laila stood between her children and Rogers. “Get out. Now.” 

Rogers stood and made for the door. “If you change your mind…” 

“I won’t.”


	4. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How I wish, how I wish you were here_   
>  _We're just two lost souls_   
>  _Swimming in a fish bowl_   
>  _Year after year_   
>  _Running over the same old ground_   
>  _And how we found_   
>  _The same old fears_   
>  _Wish you were here_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here

_“You sure about this?”_

_“I can’t trust my own mind. So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going under is the best thing, for everybody.”_

Images. Flashes of conversation. A photograph in his pocket.

_A metal hand tightening on a slim throat. Choking, pleading, hands scrabbling across his chest—tighter, tighter—_

Some weeks after he began his stasis, the nurses noticed tears running down his cheeks.

_Awkward declarations of love, gentle touches, soft kisses—_

“Heart rate is rising!” 

_“No—!” She is under him but on the table. She is fighting him fiercely as the knife sinks into her side. She cries out—_

“Brain activity is off the charts—give him a sedative!” 

_She is lifted between two shadows and a third lifts up her head. A voice, but he’s too afraid for the woman to understand what it says—_

The sedative is ineffective. A second dose is administered before anyone realizes that the super serum would negate it.

_He hears the shot and she’s on the ground. She doesn’t move. Derisive laughter around him fades as the shadows disintegrate. He kneels besides her, helpless to do anything but watch her bleed and gasp out her life on the floor._

The man’s body bucks and jolts in his never ending nightmare, day after day, for fourteen long months. 

Except for a period of three days during the early summer, near the solstice. 

_A flood of happiness washes over him as he sleeps. He sees her, she stretches out her hands to him and welcomes him into her arms. “You have to wake up, Bucky. It’s not forever.”_

_“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—I didn’t want—“_

_She smiles sadly, then she disappears and does not come back._

_And the nightmares start again._

After the third week in the fourteenth month since the man went into the chamber, the girl finished her “project”. 

And the man was left to wake on his own.

———

_James._

_The host wakes internally. He does not want to have contact with the soldier._

_James, I cannot say how sorry I am. I could not stop._

_“You are strong enough to.” The host’s bitter words cut the Soldier deeply. “You could have stopped.”_

_I am sorry. I loved her too._

_That admission shook the host; how was the Soldier even capable of such emotions?_

_She was good and kind. She reminded me that you are...not me. That I am not deserving of such attentions._

_The host is silent._

_But you are. This is the end of the line for me, James. I am going away._

_“Where?”_

_Away. They’re calling me. I have to go, James._

_The host does not say goodbye._

———

James Barnes sat up in the cryo chamber. It had been deactivated and was defrosting. He was shivering and a warm blanket was thrown over him. 

“He’s back, Shuri.” Bucky was guided to an examination bed and made to lie down. As his consciousness slowly awakened, his vitals were read and his body was examined. “Vitals are normal, physical condition is normal.” 

“What about his…?” 

“I’m not detecting any anomalies.” 

_“Are you really gone?”_ Bucky receded into the deepest recesses of his mind, probing, searching.

There was no response. 

And for the first time since 1944, James Buchanan Barnes was free. 

———

“No, I don’t want the arm.” Bucky flinched away. “No.” 

The tech put the arm away. “You will be able to function with one arm; it will take some getting used to. If you change your mind…” 

“I won’t.” 

Shuri came into the room, tapping on a screen emitted from her kimoyo beads. “Sergeant Barnes, you’re awake. How do you feel?” 

“I…how long was I under?” 

“A year and a half,” Shuri said absent-mindedly. “It only took me that long to remove that presence in your brain. How long was it there?”

Bucky shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. “1944. Seventy two years, I have had that voice in my head. It’s going to take some getting used to. How did…?” 

Shuri offered him a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted and drank. “Slowly, Sergeant, you’ll get sick.” She walked over to her table, still typing on her kimoyo bead screen. “I didn’t remove any tissue—brain surgery is beyond me at the moment but give me a few months—but I just rerouted your synapses that those words ignite to make you aggressive away from the amygdala to the prefrontal cortex.”

Bucky blinked. “...huh?” 

Shuri giggled. “I made the words not trigger the aggression centers in the brain. You know them but they won’t do anything. They’re just normal words now. You’ve still retained your super soldier strength and knowledge, you can just control it better.”

“Fascinating,” Bucky said, drinking more of the water. “When I’m more awake, I’d love to know more.” 

“In the meantime, T’Challa, Captain Rogers and my mother have arranged for a quiet place for you to recover. Once we know if you haven’t suffered any ill effects from the rerouting and the cryo, then you’ll be free to move about Wakanda.” 

“I just want to be alone.” 

He just wanted to forget. 

She was the best thing that had happened to him in a depressingly long time. She was the first woman to not only acknowledge the demons in him but to try to help him. She accepted him and had even loved him.

And he had killed her. 

As he stood on shaking legs to walk around and regain strength in them, he missed something falling out of his pocket. 

A photograph. Shuri leaned over and picked the primitive thing up. It was of a woman and Sergeant Barnes. Barnes stared at the camera with an expression somewhere between consternation and mild shock. To his right—left in the photo—was a woman in an Eastern European dress; she had dark auburn hair just past her shoulders and eyes that leaned more gray than blue. She was pretty but not in an exotic way, with high cheekbones, a pert nose and a Cupid’s bow mouth. She didn’t wear makeup and Shuri could tell from her stance that something had caught her off guard—the flash from the camera, maybe?—but that she could take care of herself in a fight. 

She would return it to Barnes later; she needed to do some digging and he didn’t need the emotional trauma after just waking up. 

———

Three hours later, Barnes found himself in Wakandan robes, an extra one covering his left stump and standing outside of a small hut. It was sparsely furnished, but homey and far away from population centers. Shuri had protested, citing medical concerns, but Barnes was adamant about being away from people. 

Shuri’s protests went unheard as Bucky set about exploring his new place. 

It was about two acres of land, including the hut. The hut itself contained a bed, two chairs, a table, a rug and some books. 

It wasn’t much, but it was perfect.

It was home.


	5. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My hands_   
>  _They’re small, I know_   
>  _But they’re not yours_   
>  _They are my own_
> 
> Jewel, Hands

Laila slammed the door behind Rogers, causing the twins to startle. She wrapped both into a fierce hug. “I’m not going back to them, guys, don’t worry.” 

_Everything hurt._

_She was vaguely aware of a hand touching her head, then footsteps, then other hands._

_Then she slept._

Laila shook the ghosts out of her head. It was mid afternoon and she still had to run to the corner store for the essentials. 

The twins were less than amenable to getting dressed, but it was almost spring in New York City, which still meant chilly temperatures. She bundled up Nora then JB and strapped them into the stroller, then stuffed the backpack diaper bag with the last of the snacks. 

It was cold and breezy but sunny outside. Laila pushed the stroller down the street, waving at familiar faces. She shivered in her threadbare jacket but the twins were nice and warm in theirs, plus another few layers. Worse case scenario, she’d ask Mrs Holmes if she would be willing to trade something for a larger jacket, one Laila could stitch a lining into, but warmer weather was right around the corner, so it would be pointless. She threw on a sweater over her shirt then donned the jacket.

Once she got to the store, she filled her bag with what she needed: formula for the twins, juice for her, house brand cereals, bananas and apples, baby food, a loaf of bread, margarine, peanut butter, pastas, cheap spices and sauces. After that, Laila still had some money on her food stamp card but she resolved to hang on to it. She used some of the money from her emergency fund to get diapers for the twins as well as more wipes and dish soap. 

With the diapers and non food stuff in the basket under the stroller and the food in the backpack, Laila walked back home—

—and halfway there, the backpack split along the side. The gallon of milk fell and broke open and half the baby food jars shattered; food, diapers and toys went everywhere. “Shit!” 

Nora began to cry while JB babbled curiously, neither having seen the chaos behind them. 

Laila looked at the bag; it wasn’t repairable but Laila didn’t have the money to get another one. Tears sprang to her eyes; she knelt and began to gather up what hadn’t been broken or destroyed, stuffing jars into the spare spaces in the basket. 

A strong, firm hand picked up a baby food jar and handed it to her; Laila looked up to see Rogers in all his bearded glory. Her eyes narrowed but she accepted the jar from him. “Thanks.” 

Steve took in the situation. This was a week’s worth of baby food strewn about in broken glass. The peanut butter was dented and half of the bread loaf had been flattened. He didn’t have much experience with the welfare system but he had noticed how food prices had gone up; this would set her back a while. “Let me help—“ 

“I’ve got it, Mr Rogers—“ 

“Steve, please—“ 

Laila’s attention was on Nora instead of Rogers. He watched as she picked up her crying daughter and comforted her with practiced ease then placed her back into the stroller with a bottle. 

“Do you need some help?” 

Laila’s shoulders sagged. “That was a week’s worth of food. I should have grabbed a different bag—“ She motioned to the ruined diaper bag. “I have to go back to the store. I’ll get the plastic bags; they’re good for the really gross diapers.” She turned the stroller back towards the store. 

Rogers fell in line beside her, hands in his pocket. “Are they sleeping through the night yet?” 

Laila actually laughed. “What do you know about babies, Rogers?” 

He had the grace to actually look hurt. “A good friend has several kids; I’ve changed more than a few diapers—“

The imagery of Captain America bent over a changing table set Laila to giggling. “I get about six at a stretch and that’s if I don’t have anything to do.” 

“Do you have any help?” Do you want any help? 

Laila’s walls went back up. “I don’t need help.” She pushes the stroller a little faster to outpace Rogers. He quickened his pace to catch up with her—not a hard feat to do given the height differences between the two. 

“Look, I’m trying to offer you a job—“ 

Laila whirled on him, toeing up even though she came up to the center of his chest. “And who would I answer to?” 

“Me—“ 

She raised an eyebrow.

“—and Fury—“

“Fuck off.” Laila turned away. “I’m not working for or with Fury or anyone to do with SHIELD in ANY context—I don’t CARE that SHIELD has gone the way of the dodo, I will NOT work with him ever again!” She grabbed the stroller, turned away from the store and towards her apartment. The replacement groceries would have to wait. 

Rogers followed her to the apartment, still trying to convince her of doing the job. She got to the apartment complex and carried the twins up the stairs and to the apartment, leaving the stroller in the hallway. Rogers grabbed the stroller and carried it and the items in the basket up the stairs, setting it down by the door. Laila put the twins in their chairs and distracted them with snacks while Rogers, not having been invited in, loitered at the front door.

“Why the hell am I the one being chosen? What’s so special about me, Rogers?!” 

Rogers pushed the stroller into the apartment. “I don’t know, Laila, I just know that Fury wants YOU and won’t accept ‘anyone less’—his words, not mine—and I know that this job will at least get you into a better position—“ 

“At what cost, Rogers?!” Laila shouted. “I nearly DIED last time! I have children now and I don’t have any family who would raise them if I actually DID die! I’m ALL THEY HAVE!” She yanked the stroller out of his hands and pulled it into the apartment. Rogers stumbled in as she reached into the closet and pulled out her pepper spray. “Now get your star spangled ass OUT of my apartment and stay the hell away from me!” 

“Laila—“ Rogers reached for her—

—which turned out to be a big mistake: Laila emptied the contents of the can into Rogers’ face, then slammed the door in it.


	6. Gives You Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When you see my face_   
>  _Hope it gives you hell_   
>  _Hope it gives you hell_   
>  _When you walk my way_   
>  _Hope it gives you hell_   
>  _Hope it gives you hell_
> 
>  
> 
> All American Rejects, Gives You Hell

About half a second after Laila closed the door, the burn set in. “Aah—!” 

He remembered, about a year after he had come out from the ice, being pepper sprayed. The infernal invention came to origin in the mid 1960s and Steve had been unceremoniously informed that he had to undergo the same training that modern soldiers had to undergo. To everyone’s amusement, he was sprayed twice and managed to collapse in pain only after the end of the course. He wasn’t sure if Tony still had the film. 

Thirty years later, it still felt like his face was on fire—and that was putting it mildly. Tears sprang to his eyes and his nose began running uncontrollably as he fought the urge to rub his eyes, curl up in a fetal position and scream.

“Turned you down flat, didn’t she?” A wry voice spoke up. Through blurred vision, Steve saw a short, stout figure holding a broom. “Anita Holmes—don’t bother introducing yourself, I know who you are. Some things are better left unspoken—“ She thumbed over her shoulder at some kind of camera in the corner. “Let’s get you in here, Jerry, and we’ll have a talk.” 

She guided Steve into her apartment, hitting a button on the wall, then pulled Steve over towards the sink, bypassing a grizzled old Pomeranian dozing in a basket. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk and guided Steve over to the sink and helped him gently rinse the capsaicin out of his hair and eyes. 

“This is the only safe space in the complex; my apartment is set up with a comma disruptor. They think I’m watching soap operas. You are Jerry,” she said pointedly. “As far as I know, you were a potential suitor who didn’t take no for and answer. You got a face full of pepper spray and left—Unless you’d rather end up in federal custody.” 

“I’m good—“ Steve spluttered. 

“I work with Fury,” Mrs Holmes said solemnly. “That man has stubbornness issues.” 

“I noticed. Does Laila know?” Steve accepted a dish towel and patted his face dry of the milk; his face still stung but less so. 

“You think she’d be here if she did?” Mrs Holmes sighed. “That girl could give Fury a run for his money in the stubbornness department.”

“Why is she so against working for him again?” 

Mrs Holmes offered Steve a glass of milk and a chair; he sat down and drank the milk to clear out the capsaicin from his esophagus. “About two years ago, she accepted a mission—for what, I’m not at liberty to say. She ended up falling in love with the mission and the mission turned on her. That mission nearly killed her, Jerry. You ever hear of ‘once bitten, twice shy’?” 

“Yeah—“

“She got ‘bit’ pretty bad. She nearly died—and then she found out about the twins. She was on the streets when her name crossed my roster. She was visibly pregnant and about to be on the street—no money, no family, nobody to help her. I picked her up and she’s been living here since.”

“So the promise of a job—?”

“Isn’t enough to convince her to work for someone who nearly cost her her life.” 

“Can you talk to her?” Steve asked. “Fury, for some odd reason, wants her and only her for this job. He hasn’t told me why.” 

“Nor will he,” Mrs Holmes replied wryly. “I don’t know that I can convince her to work for Fury.  
I do know that you have to leave now AND that I’m going to have to smack you upside the head for terrifying that young woman and her babies.” She walked behind him and slapped him upside the head with a wooden spoon, startling Steve more than hurting him. 

“Ow—!” He rubbed the back of his head ruefully. 

Mrs Holmes cast a dubious glare in his direction. “She’s not going to work for Fury. I’ll tell you that right now.” 

“Fury isn’t going to like being told ‘no’.” Steve stood up. 

“I don’t give a damn what Fury thinks.” Mrs Holmes put her hands on her hips and stared up into Steve’s face. “She said no for whatever reason and unless something drastic happens, she’s going to keep saying no. And Fury, if you don’t stop loitering about my living room, I will sic Killer on you—“ 

“Anita, sharp as ever.” Fury stepped into the kitchen. “You know that dog is about twenty years old, right?”

“Don’t even think of going near that girl, Fury!” 

“He’s tied to her, Anita.” Fury wasn’t one for mincing words. “We need her on board with this—“ 

“Is it worth it?” Mrs Holmes marched up to Fury and stuck a finger in his face. “Is it WORTH destroying her and putting those babies at risk?!” 

“Anita—“ 

“You look me in the face and tell me if it’s worth it, Nicholas. You look me in the face and tell me it’s worth hurting her again or putting her babies in harm's way—“ 

“Anita, there’s more things at stake than you realize.” Fury stood his ground against the furious woman. “The world, the galaxy, the entire UNIVERSE may be at stake and it’s a rough decision but if it’s putting three lives against trillions of others, I’ll TAKE that risk.” 

Mrs Holmes took a step back, horror dawning on her. She was silent for a few moments, then quietly spoke: “I won’t be a part of this.” 

“If you’re not going to work with us, I’ll have to cut you off.” 

Mrs Holmes stared straight into Fury’s face. “Do it, then. I won’t help you hurt her. Now both of you get out.” 

An hour and one anonymous bag of groceries outside Laila’s door later, Steve sat in the passenger seat of Fury’s Suburban. “What’s the deal with Lai—Doc Evans anyways?” 

Fury let out a sigh. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you, Cap.” 

“You just going to walk away?” 

“Nope,” said Fury, popping the ‘p’. “She’s going to come back to us, whether she likes it or not.”


	7. Eighteen and Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Eighteen and life you got it_   
>  _Eighteen and life you know_   
>  _Your crime is time and it’s_   
>  _Eighteen and life to go..._
> 
> Skid Row, Eighteen and Life

Bucky flung open the cloth door to his hut, dripping sweat from his run. 

It had been several months since he woke from cryo. He had check ups every week, then last month, it was decided he could come in every month or that Shuri would come to him. 

Aside from her, Steve would occasionally visit via hologram, but other than that, he was alone.

He preferred it that way. 

It was still dark but the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. Bucky grabbed a towel and wiped off his face and neck then stripped to his boxer shorts with one handed practiced ease. He elected to forgo the shower; crocodiles liked the dawn and dusk hours to hunt and Bucky didn’t feel like tangling with one of the beasts this morning. 

As he pulled a shirt on, a pounding occurred on the wall besides the curtain he used for a door. “Hold on—“

A boy about twelve with dark mocha skin stood at Bucky’s doorway, tears streaming down his face. He babbled off in Xhosa, which Bucky was still learning. “Whoa, slow down, Anathi, I haven’t got that far yet—“ 

“It’s my goat—!” The boy said in English. He grabbed Bucky’s hand and dragged him into a run. 

Bucky followed Anathi to a hut larger than his own. An elderly man who Bucky knew as Umkhulu sat outside holding a large, pregnant female goat in his lap; she was laboring intensively. Bucky knelt by the man and checked over the goat with a tender hand. 

“I think the kid is stuck,” Umkhulu said feebly. “I can’t turn it and I can’t lift her onto the table!” 

“Okay, let’s get her on the table and I’ll see what I can do.” Bucky directed Anathi to pick up the goat and the boy led them to the hut’s table. He gently lay the panting animal on the table and moved to stand at her head. 

Bucky knew this goat. Her name was Mnandi— “sweetheart”— and she was Anathi’s favorite goat. His best friend after he had rescued her from a predator. Mnandi followed Anathi around like a dog, demanding affection at every opportunity. The boy was overjoyed when he found out she was pregnant. 

Mnandi struggled to push out the kid. “Hold her down,” Bucky instructed Anathi and Umkhulu. He gently pet Mnandi’s side and slid his arm up her birth canal. She bleated weakly but did not struggle. 

Bucky felt the wrong end of the kid—a tail. Labor had not progressed far enough to require surgery, not that Bucky knew how to do that anyways. The kid was in a position to where someone with strength could turn it but Umkhulu didn’t have that strength and Anathi wasn’t quite experienced enough to turn the kid properly. Bucky needed a second hand to do what needed to be done so Anathi was his only option: the kid had smaller arms than Bucky and could easily slide two hands in. He pulled his arm out and Mnandi bleated again and kicked feebly.

“Anathi, c’mere—“ Anathi left his place at Mnandi’s head, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, and came to join Bucky. “Slide your hands in here and turn the kid until you feel the face.” 

Anathi gave Bucky a frightened look. “Won’t I hurt her?” 

“Not as much as I would. Your arms are smaller and you’ve got two of them. Your grandpa taught you and me three months ago, remember?” 

When Bucky had first began to live at the hut, he didn’t know a damn thing about goats or hay or farms or weather. He was a city boy and while this was a pleasant change of pace, he still needed to know how to survive out in the country. 

Umkhulu and Anathi lived probably about half a klick away and Anathi immediately “adopted” Bucky as a friend. Anathi’s parents had died in a car accident in the city and Anathi had been sent to live with his mother’s father. Umkhulu was very knowledgeable in farm ways and taught Anathi and, by extension, Bucky and both learned to trust each other in time. 

“Just breathe and turn the kid like you did for your other goat,” Bucky gently coaxed. 

Anathi was still terrified; on any other goat, it was easy. But this was his goat. His friend. It was completely different. 

“Breathe, kiddo, you’re doing great,” Bucky encouraged, never mind he had no idea what he was doing himself. Anathi took a deep breath and began to turn the kid. 

A few moments of held breath later, Anathi felt the kid’s face. “I’ve got it!” 

“Great!” Umkhulu cheered. “Now give it a gentle tug into the birth canal; Mnandi will do the rest.” 

Anathi did so and soon, the kid came crashing out. Mnandi gave a huff and a sigh and took several heavy breaths.

Anathi gave a happy squeal and turned to inspect the new kid. It was healthy and perfect, attempting to stand on its own. It opened its eyes and bleated and Mnandi tried to turn her head to it. 

As she did, she cried out and a second kid fell out. Anathi’s eyes went wide. “Umkhulu—!” 

“I see it, Anathi—whoa!” Umkhulu jumped back as Mnandi kicked herself to her hooves and trotted over to inspect her offspring. The first one happily accepted her nuzzling. 

The second one, a tiny white little thing with a missing front leg, was still as a rock. Umkhulu rubbed its back and the kid kicked feebly. A collective breath of relief released itself from the three in the hut.

Bucky gently turned Mnandi toward the still kid; she bleated and kicked away from it. 

“Why isn’t she trying to take care of the other one?” Anathi questioned. “I’ve never seen a goat do that.” 

Bucky sat back on his heels. “I don’t know, bud.” 

“Sometimes animals in general will refuse an offspring if they think there’s something wrong with it,” Umkhulu said quietly. “It’s their way of making sure the strong survive.” 

“So what do we do?” 

“Well, it wouldn’t make a good addition to the herd—“ Umkhulu started. He saw the crestfallen look on Anathi’s face and the horrified expression on Bucky’s and changed gears. “—but it would make a good pet. You just don’t breed it.” 

Without further ado, Anathi picked up the kid and deposited it gently into Bucky’s lap. 

“What—hey—why—?” Bucky stuttered.

“You look like you need more friends.” Anathi smiled.

A few hours and a lesson on goat care later, Bucky brought the hungry kid to his hut. “Shuri, I need some help,” he called to his monitor, the only piece of technology in his hut (so far). He placed the kid into the tub he used for cleaning his dishes and put the tub onto his bed.

Shuri’s concerned face popped up immediately. “Are you okay, Bucky? Is something wrong?” 

“I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew.” Bucky shifted the camera on the monitor to show the kid in the tub. “I know the basics but I need some bottles and a vet. It’s missing a leg and I can’t even tell if it’s a boy or a girl.” 

Shuri shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth and stood up. “I’ll be down in half an hour. In the meantime, goat mothers lick down their young to clean them—“ 

“Yeah, that ain’t happening. The mother rejected it.” 

“So YOU give it a bath!” Shuri chuckled. “Don’t use any harsh soaps—especially that!” 

Bucky put his body wash back with a chagrined look. 

“I will bring some soap for it, plus formula.” Shuri signed off. 

Struggling with one arm, Bucky filled the tub with water about a quarter of the way, nervous about filling it more. The kid snuffled and sniffed, trying to get to its feet and rocking the tub. “No, no, stay down, you’re all wet—shit!” The kid stood and tripped out of the tub and water splashed everywhere.

“Well, fuck.” Bucky scooped the baby goat around the middle and put it on the floor just as Shuri walked in. 

“Ohmigoodness it’s adorable!” Shuri squealed, placing her bag down gently on the floor. She scooped the dripping kid off the floor and cuddled it close; the kid nipped at her braids. She put the kid down (reluctantly) and reached into her bag. She pulled out a bottle and a can of something. 

“What’s that?” Bucky pointed to the can.

“Formula. Mammals need milk from their mother but formula is the next best thing.” She gave Bucky the can. “Open it and pour half the can into the bottle.” 

Struggling for a few moments while Shuri watched patiently, Bucky managed to open the can and pour half the contents into the bottle. Shuri handed him a bottle of water and Bucky filled it the rest of the way. “Now shake it GENTLY so you don’t create a lot of bubbles.” 

Bucky did so as the kid nipped at his leg, nuzzling it. “What’s it doing?”

“Rooting. It’s hungry. Hold it like this.” Shuri picked up the baby goat and placed it in Bucky’s lap so it could feed. 

Bucky held the bottle upside down in a reverse grip; the kid latched on and greedily suckled it. “Whoa slow down there…”

“This will be good for you, Bucky!” Shuri clapped her hands. 

After the baby had eaten its fill and grown sleepy, Shuri tenderly lifted it out of Bucky’s lap and placed it on its side on the bed. She pulled a scanner out of the bag and hooked up some monitors. “It’s healthy otherwise, just missing that leg. It’s a boy, too!” 

Detaching the scanner, she stood up. “You should build a yard for him, more to keep him out of trouble than anything. He needs shelter when he’s old enough to stay outside, so you need to build him a house too. Goats are a big responsibility, Mr Barnes, are you sure you can handle this?” She asked, jokingly stern.

“Yeah, what the hell. Where can I get him some friends?” Bucky ran a hand over the sleeping kid’s side. 

Shuri laughed. “Stick with one for now and build the yard first!”


	8. The Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He’s going the distance_   
>  _He’s going for speed_   
>  _She’s all alone, all alone_   
>  _In her time of need_
> 
>  
> 
> Cake, The Distance

“Mrs Holmes, what a pleasant surprise!” Laila opened the door for the landlord. 

The last few months since Rogers had left we’re blessed with peace and quiet—or as much peace and quiet as one could have with twins. Rogers hadn’t been back since Laila had pepper sprayed him, but Mrs Holmes knew that both Rogers and Fury were in the wings. 

But Fury had frozen the assets for Laila’s stay; she had about two months before she had to evict Laila. She did not want to but she couldn’t support Laila and the twins financially and Laila had no prospects for jobs still. 

What Mrs Holmes didn’t know what that Fury had made Laila Evans a ghost in the employment field. Every person who searched Laila’s social security number just...didn’t find her. Fury didn’t tamper with her record, he just made her disappear. As is she had never existed.

“Laila, honey, we have to talk.” 

About two hours later, Laila sat at her kitchen table, stunned beyond belief. She clasped her hands together and leaned forward. “How long…?” 

“I was a SHIELD agent before you were born,” Mrs Holmes said gently. “I retired about seven years ago. Fury had me keep tabs on transitioning agents. Agents that were leaving SHIELD for whatever reason came to me for help and housing and job hunting.” 

“Why me?” 

“That I don’t know, honey, but it has something to do with your children.” 

Laila paled. “What does Fury want with my kids?!” 

“Nothing bad, child, that I can swear.” Mrs Holmes took Laila’s hands in her own. “Fury has the best of intentions but he has a hard assed way of going about it. I think it’s because of the children’s father.”

And Laila’s world froze. “How…?” 

“He’s not stupid, Laila. He knows who their father is. He hasn’t graced me with that information and I figured you’d tell me in your own time.” 

Laila gave a shuddering sigh of relief. Despite the sudden revelations from Mrs Holmes, she still trusted the woman. She knew her children were safe now, at least from Fury. “Who else?” Who else in the complex? 

“Just me.” 

“What do I do?” 

“Well, that’s not something I can answer for you, honey.” Mrs Holmes patted Laila’s hand. “I can tell you that if I were in your position, I would swallow my pride and take the job.” 

“Why?” 

“Security, safety, plus my kids would get to travel the world.” 

“How would I get in contact with him?” 

“He knows, honey; he always knows.” The landlord gave her a gentle smile. 

———

“Fury, I don’t say this lightly: you’re an asshole.” Rogers sighed, waiting outside of the apartment complex. 

“I’m running out of money, Cap; I can’t afford to support her and keep us all safe.” Fury shrugged. 

Rogers stared Fury in the face. “Nick, you’re hacking into the national bank.” 

“Irrelevant.” Fury turned his attention back to the complex. “Any minute now.” 

“I’m just going to stand over here…” Rogers backed out of arm's reach of Fury. 

Evans walked out of the complex—alone—and made a beeline for Fury’s location. Anita must have the kids. She stood up to Fury’s shoulder—

—but that didn’t stop her from landing a slap on his cheek. It didn’t do anything more than startle him but it reminded him who exactly he was dealing with. 

Laila turned to Rogers, who held up his hands and backed further away. “Don’t think you’re off the fucking hook—“ 

She turned back to Fury. “Before I work for you again, I have conditions—“ 

“I’m listening.” Fury clasped his hands behind his back.

“My children are off limits. You don’t get to use them for your fucked up experiments or assignments or whatever it is you’re doing.” 

“Done.”

“I want to be paid equivalent or better than the jobs I could have had. Psychologist jobs, not minimum wage fast food shit.” 

“Also done.” 

“I want the best possible care for my children. Daycare, medical care, everything. They need new clothes and toys, too.” 

“Absolutely.” 

_Wow, they must really need me to be allowing all this._ Laila smirked internally. 

_This is gonna be easy. They’re going to Wakanda._ Fury smiled. “Anything else?” 

“A million dollars, a GOOD coffee—not that Mickey Mouse 99 cent horseshit—a kitten and the souls of everyone who displeased me.” Laila crossed her arms over her chest. 

Fury guffawed as Rogers snorted. “I can’t promise you the kitten but I can get you the coffee and we will work from there.” 

“When do we leave?” Laila sighed. 

“Wheels up in two hours; you and Rogers need to be at the airport in an hour.” Fury turned to leave. 

“I need four.” Laila bargained. “I have twins that are almost one year old and only two hands. Unless you’re going to take care of them so I can pack and tie up loose ends, you give me four hours.” 

_Well then._ “Fair enough. Welcome back, Doc.” 

“Piss off, Fury.”


	9. 1000 Horsepower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Turn that shit out louder_   
>  _Make it all go faster_   
>  _Playing through the witching hour_   
>  _Take it to one thousand horsepower_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Godsmack, 1000 Horsepower

The goat, whom Bucky dubbed Tripod, followed him everywhere for the next several weeks, even to the bathroom. He would bleat on the other side of the door until Bucky finished and oftentimes, Bucky would have one sided conversations with him: “Yes, I know, I’m right here, I’m almost done—“ 

Eventually, Tripod had realized that Bucky hadn’t disappeared to another dimension and figured out how to entertain himself while Bucky was busy. Despite missing a leg, the young thing managed to get into all kinds of mischief. The first time Bucky hadn’t heard the goat bleat on the other side of the door, he thought Tripod had run out the door. He left the bathroom in a hurry, pants pulled to his thighs, to see Tripod watching the chickens out the window with great interest. 

Another time, Tripod was on the kitchen counter in the cereal. Bucky never did figure out how he managed to do that. 

Today, Bucky put Tripod on the floor and turned his back to fix a quick dinner for the goat. He turned back with the meal to find the goat gone. “Tripod—?!” 

Bucky put the plate of greens and fruit on the table and scanned the hut. Since acquiring Tripod, the hut became more of an apartment; Bucky had an actual bedroom with a closed door, a separated kitchen and dining area and a living room. His front door was now an actual door with a window and a dog flap. He had even gotten three more goats for Tripod to play with but the goat still elected to be a house-goat. 

Bucky began looking under furniture and behind appliances. Tripod was nowhere to be found. 

It was twilight and Bucky panicked, thinking for sure the goat had fallen prey to a predator. About an hour and a half later, when it was fully dark, Tripod waltzed into the hut through the with a pleased look on his face, filthy from head to hoof, munching on an apple core. Bucky looked over to the compost bin. It was open, in shambles and scattered all over the field; the other goats were munching on the refuse. Bucky put his head in his hand. “You little shit…” 

Tripod responded by doing just that on the floor. “DAMMIT!” 

Bucky sighed and grabbed the broom, then swept up the goat’s leavings, holding the dustpan with his foot. He then mopped the floor, bleaching it just in case. Tripod had disappeared again and Bucky snorted. 

Following fading hoof prints to the bedroom, Bucky groaned as he found Tripod laying on the bed—still covered in filth. “You need a bath—again.” 

One handed wrangling was quickly becoming one of Bucky’s new skill sets. He managed to get Tripod into the shower stall and under the water, then stripped to his boxer shorts and joined him. He proceeded to scrub every inch of the protesting goat until his fur shone white. Bucky turned off the water and opened the door to the stall. 

Looking quite pleased with himself, Tripod trotted out of the stall and shook himself dry. 

“You stay right there until I get new sheets. No—Tripod—STAY.” Locking the now angry goat in the bathroom, Bucky managed to get sheets on his bed and a blanket. 

Finally, he let Tripod out of the bathroom; the goat cantered over to the bed and jumped up on it, settling himself in the exact middle. “Move over, that’s my bed!” Bucky crawled in, gently pushing the goat over, and curled up to sleep. 

He had just gotten comfortable when his computer buzzed. “Shit.” 

It was Steve. “Heya, Buck—“ 

“Steven Grant Rogers, I swear to Bast—“ 

Steve ignored him. “Okay so I’m in New York with Fury—“ 

The back of Bucky’s neck tingled. Fury had been one of his targets. 

“—and with Shuri’s blessing, we managed to find a therapist who specializes in transitions.” 

Bucky’s heart sank. “No.”

“Beg pardon?” 

“I said _no,_ Steve.” 

Steve’s initial excitement died down. “What’s going on, James?” The use of the given name wasn’t lost on Bucky; Steve Rogers was in “supporting friend” mode. 

“I just...had an experience with a therapist.” Bucky’s shoulders sagged. “Psychologist, really, but I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Out with it, James Barnes,” Steve said softly. 

And so Bucky relayed the story of Laila: “I fell for her. Hard, Steve. She made me feel like everything I’ve done didn’t matter, that I was worthy of something great.” 

With a shuddering sigh and a choking in his throat, Bucky put his head in his hand. “And I killed her, Steve. I couldn’t stop the Soldier.” 

Steve was silent, more for not knowing what to say. 

“Steve, I can’t do this again.” 

“You’re in Wakanda and Karpov is dead, right?” Steve tried to reason. 

“Steve—“ 

“You need to talk about this, Buck,” Steve interrupted. “Talk to Shuri, T’Challa, even Okoye. But you can’t keep it in forever.”

Bucky turned off the computer. “Fuck—“ He flopped back on his bed and scratched Tripod’s head. “What the hell am I going to do, Tripod?” 

He fell asleep before that question was answered. 

———

The next morning, Bucky woke feeling emotionally better than he had in ages. Whistling, he got dressed and, with Tripod at his heels, tended to his morning chores. 

He came back from his chores to T’Challa and Okoye plus two other guards carrying a large box. They set the box down on the bales of hay he had been shucking and opened its lid.

Bucky’s mood plummeted. He looked into the box to see a shadow black prosthetic arm with gold trim. Defeated, he sighed. _Can’t I ever get some peace?_

“Where’s the fight?” 

“On its way,” T’Challa responded, sounding equally defeated.

“Give me twenty to clean up and get my goats to safety.” 

With the help of the guards, Bucky attached the prosthetic to his should, hissing in pain as the nerves connected with the wirings. He hopped on the transport with reservations and rode in silence to the castle. 

At the lobby of the building, Shuri was bursting with excitement. 

“I talked to Captain Rogers and he’s coming HERE!! I finally get to meet him in person!! Shuri squealed. “So, apparently there’s something happening all over the world. I didn’t get the details but something about a vision being hurt and a witch and a falcon—“ 

_Vision? Falcon—? Wanda? Are they coming out here???_ Bucky just stared at her. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off with the roar of a jet. As the engines died down, Bucky heard T’Challa speaking: “Well, I have my King’s Guard, the Dora Milaje… and a semi-stable 100-year-old man.” 

And Bucky Barnes walked out to meet an old friend. 


	10. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Because I’m broken  
>  When I’m lonesome  
> And I don’t feel right  
> When you’re gone away_
> 
> Seether featuring Amy Lee, Broken

Laila packed in a hurry with Rogers grabbing anything he thought useful, including Laila’s Beretta, summer clothing and toys. 

She didn’t notice when Rogers opened the closet, looking for kids’ clothes and shoes. 

Rogers spied a small kids’ shoebox on a shelf and grabbed it. It made a rattling noise, piquing his curiosity. _What’s in here? It’s not kids shoes…_

A photo and a set of dog tags fell out. Steve picked up the tags and read the name, then picked up the photo. 

_Is that—_

_Oh my god._

And everything hit Steve Rogers at once. Disbelieving, he stared at the picture for a solid minute before he heard Laila shout that she was ready to go. 

He shoved both the photo and the tags into his pocket.

———

The twelve hour flight was a pain in the ass with two toddlers in a cramped space. No commercial flights existed from New York to Wakanda so Steve and Laila were stuck with the Quinjet. Laila spent the better part of the flight trying to keep JB from pressing buttons. Fury did not come, electing to stay in New York City to try and rebuild SHIELD. 

“This is Wakanda?!” She exclaimed after recovering from what she was certain would be the end of their lives. Flying headlong into a cliff that turned out to be a hologram did not do anything for her anxiety.

“Yeah—“ 

“Oh my god, it’s beautiful—! It’s incredible!” Laila gushed. “I've always heard of it as a third world country.” The greenery stood in direct contrast to the sparkling city within. “I knew someone from here. Her name is Nakia. This is everything she described it to be and more.” 

Steve jolted. “That’s—I know her! She’ll be glad to see you.” 

Laila’s shoulders sagged. “The last time I saw her, she slapped me.” 

Sensing reluctance on Laila’s part, Steve didn’t comment any further. 

After touchdown, then a bathroom break and a quick clean up of JB and Nora from the flight, Laila met with King T’Challa and Queen Ramonda.

“Miss Evans, you are looking well—oh, we don’t do that here,” T’Challa said, clearly uncomfortable as Laila attempted a curtsy in shorts. “Nakia is away on a mission but will be back later this month; you two have much to talk about,” he followed up cryptically.

“Your highness,” Laila inwardly sighed with relief; she had no idea what to expect as far as decorum. The last time she had seen His Majesty, T’Challa was leaving her hospital room. Laila didn’t want to be here either and she suspected that this was required on his part. 

Queen Ramonda was more easy going. She was older than T’Challa so Laila suspected the queen was an older relative and not a wife. She ooh’d and aww’d over the twins and played with them for a few moments before introducing herself to Laila. “It’s been a while since I heard little feet in the castle,” she laughed with a playful grin at T’Challa; the man shifted uneasily again and Laila realized that no matter how powerful or old a man was, his mother was still an important figure in his life. 

“I am afraid I do not have time to have a longer conversation, Miss Evans; there are things I must attend to.” The young king shook Laila’s hand and left the group.

Thankfully, Nora’s yawns and JB rubbing his eyes ended the awkward conversations; Her Majesty showed them to their room. 

Laila set Nora down while JB toddled off to explore the room. Queen Ramonda had been more than generous; the room was modest by Wakandan standards, but still larger than her apartment in Queens. It had a bathroom, two bedrooms, a kitchenette and a large open area. It was even furnished with toddler amenities, including a large bucket of toys. Nora headed straight for the toys while JB made a beeline for the alarm clock and proceeded to explore it. _Like father, like son…_

——— 

“Bucky, there’s something you’ve got to know.”

Bucky looked up from his plate. “Besides the end of the world?”

Steve had given him more details of what was going on. A giant space being was reigning terror and something about infinity stones and Bucky was just astounded at the depth of it all. 

“That therapist you told me about?” Rogers leaned against the door. “I’ve finally connected the dots.”

“Took you long enough, old man.” 

“Hear me out, Bucky.” Rogers pulled out a picture. “I didn’t see this until you woke up. While they were reviving you from cryo, this fell out of your pocket. Shuri held on to it then gave it to me.” He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a second photo—

And the set of dog tags. Bucky’s tags. Rogers gave the photo and tags to Bucky. “A few days ago, I saw her in a picture—in her apartment—right after I called you.” 

Bucky ran his thumb over Laila’s photographed face. “Don’t fuck with me, Steve, just don’t. I saw her die—“ _by my hand._

“She’s alive, I swear on my mother's soul.” Steve walked Bucky to Laila’s room. “She’s here in Wakanda. She’s the therapist I was telling you about.” 

Bucky couldn’t find the words to express what he was feeling, so Steve continued. “She should be settled in by now. Let’s go see her.” Automatically, Bucky stood and followed Steve to the elevator.

“What if...what if she hates me, Steve?” Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “The last time she saw me...” 

Steve had no answer to that. “Just...just try to take it slow.” They stopped at the elevator. “Bucky, there’s one more thing.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ll see when you get there. It’s not my place to say.” 

———

Rogers had left her and the children here to run an errand and Laila just wanted to unpack and get to work. She staged her handgun on a high shelf near the door, out of reach of the children but in reach of her then put her shotgun in the closet and locked it. She then pulled out her laptop and connected it with the Wakanda wireless. Nora and James were occupied so she sat down and got to work with analysis on the patient. 

She hadn’t been given more than a psychological profile; the patient had been “enslaved” mentally and was prone to subliminal suggestion and she was to evaluate whoever it was to see if that person was fit for society. It seemed a familiar case but Laila hadn’t put much thought into that.

Before she got too far into her work, a knock sounded at the door. Laila got up to answer it, closing her laptop. 

“Laila? It’s me.” Rogers. 

Laila rolled her eyes. More than likely, this man had other work for her to do. She walked down the hallway, intending to open the door to give him a piece of her mind—

—and a ghost from her past was standing there. 

James Barnes stared at her with shock in his grey blue eyes. Rogers stood behind him with a neutral expression on his face.

Laila backed up into the room, placing herself between Barnes and her children. Barnes advanced on her and Laila backpedaled into the room, hands searching for anything that could stall him until she could get to her Beretta, her Mossberg, anything to protect herself and her children. 

Finding nothing, she opted for the next best thing: she reared back her hand and slapped him. 

Barnes stepped back with an even more stunned expression on his face while Rogers let out a laugh. “Oh, she’s definitely pissed at you, Bucky!” 

With Barnes dazed, Laila managed to scramble back and grab the handgun off the shelf. She pointed it at his chest, tearing up. “You son of a bitch, don’t come any closer—“

“Shit—Laila, I swear on my life, he’s not the Soldier—“ The situation now more serious, Rogers interposed himself between Laila and Barnes, more to discourage Laila pulling the trigger. “Hear him out—“ 

Barnes was still staring at her, awe in his eyes now, cheek reddened from Laila’s slap. “I...I thought you were dead—“ 

Laila glared at him, handgun still aimed at his chest. “Not for your lack of trying…”

“God—I thought—Laila, I’m so sorry—“ Bucky brushed past Rogers and tried to gather her in his arms, heedless of the handgun.

“Let go of me—!” Laila ducked out of his grasp. “You—you tried to kill me and you expect me to just—FORGIVE you?!” 

“Laila…” Rogers said gently. 

“The last I saw of him, he was driving a knife into my lung, Rogers!” 

“The Soldier is gone, Laila—“ Bucky tried to move closer, just to touch her. Laila shifted back again and glared, handgun still trained on Bucky’s chest. 

This was a dream, a hallucination and whatever was going on in his head, Bucky was going to give Shuri a piece of his mind for whatever she did. 

Her heart raced with adrenaline and not with a little bit of terror, Laila lowered her weapon but backed up band snapped at him: “You need to leave, Barnes.” 

From behind her, Laila heard sniffling and angry toddler babbling. She backed away and hazarded a glance behind her. Nora was hiding behind the couch, peeking out with tear reddened eyes. JB had placed himself between the adults and his sister and was currently jabbering at them with an incensed look on his face.

Barnes’ eyes widened. His shoulders slumped in defeat, he turned and walked away. Rogers watched Laila stare after Bucky, then put the handgun back on the shelf. “Laila, you know it wasn’t him, right?” 

“I don’t know anything anymore, Rogers,” Laila said, tears streaming down her face as she picked up Nora to comfort her. “My logical brain says ‘it wasn’t Bucky’ but my instinct says it was—but it may be the other way around as well.”

Rogers turned Laila to face him. “How can he prove it’s him?” 

Laila leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “If I knew the answer, Rogers, I’d tell him.”


	11. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Well I found a woman_  
>  _Stronger than anyone I know_  
>  _She shares my dreams_  
>  _Ihope that someday I'll share her home_  
>  _I found a lover_  
>  _To carry more than just my secrets_  
>  _To carry love_  
>  _To carry children of our own_
> 
>  
> 
> Ed Sheeran, Perfect

“Laila, PLEASE—“ 

“Please what, Rogers?” Laila cuddled Nora close and fixated a murderous stare in Rogers’ direction.

“Look, something is coming. Something huge. We’re talking ‘end of life as we know it’ huge,” Rogers put his foot in between the door and the jamb as Laila was closing the door in his face. “Laila—“ 

“I brought the pepper spray—“ 

“I’m not moving from this spot until you TALK to him, Laila. You can empty a million cans of pepper spray into my face but I. Am. Not. LEAVING.” Rogers braced himself against the doorframe to emphasize his point.

It took several more hours of Rogers pleading with her to convince Laila to entertain even a supervised meeting with Bucky. “He loves you, Laila, I swear on my mother’s soul.” 

“Rogers—“ 

“Please, just talk to him. At least let him know about his children—“ 

Laila grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to her face. “Who fucking told you,” she hissed. 

“I, uh—ow!—I figured it out for myself—“ It wasn’t a lie: both twins favored Bucky in the looks department, if one knew how to look. 

They didn’t have weeks, they had maybe one or two days at the most and Rogers needed Bucky to be in fighting shape both physically and emotionally. 

“Do it for them, even if you two don’t… just _let them know him_ and let him know them.” Rogers disengaged Laila’s hands from his shirt. “I didn’t know my father and yours died when you were a kid. Don’t you want your kids to know theirs?”

“...goddammit, Rogers.” 

———

“She hates me, Steve.” Bucky lamented. “She fucking hates me.” 

“She’s confused, Bucky…” 

“She doesn’t want to see me again—did you see her face? She was terrified—” 

_Oh that was NOT terror and just be glad she didn’t pull that trigger._ “And I saw the regret after she sent you away. She’s confused and upset. Just give her some time. She’s agreed to meet with you. I’ll sit in the living room. You won’t know I’m there, promise.” 

They now sat in the living room in Laila’s apartment watching the twins play. Bucky and Laila sat on the floor a few feet from each other while Steve sat in a chair, reading an article on the Yankees and Braves game. 

“...the last I saw of you, you were on the ground. Th-the Soldier allowed me to say goodbye, then pulled me away.” Bucky said quietly. “I tried to stop it, the Soldier did too, but the command words wouldn’t allow him—“ 

“After you… hurt me, I don’t remember anything. I remember a lot of pain in my midsection—“ Laila placed her hand under her right breast where the bullet had crashed out of her body, then her left side over the stab wound. “—then I woke up in the hospital and your face was in the news.” 

“Did you believe…?” _That I caused that bombing?_

Laila nodded. “I...I did—and I’m so sorry—I turned off the news and didn’t have a radio or TV or WiFi until I got here. I didn’t get any news and I didn’t know…” 

Bucky moved closer to her and put his hand on hers, then wiped away the tear on her cheek. “I can’t believe you’re here—right here—Christ, I thought you were dead.” 

Laila froze at the contact, then gave a shuddering sigh, defenses crumbling. She leaned into his hand, savoring his touch.

It had been so long. The dam burst and Laila leaned into Bucky’s chest with a body wracking sob while he buried his head in her hair. 

“Were there… were there others?” Bucky asked quietly when Laila broke away. She had children now and given their age, she must have moved on quickly.

“Other what?” 

“Other men, other...lovers.” 

“Bucky, I have twins, what makes the hell you think I had time for others?” Laila laughed. Rogers smirked quietly from his chair but didn’t look up. 

“Whose children are they, then?” 

Laila fixed Bucky with a stare that could freeze the magma in the earth. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Well, we’ve not seen each other for about two and a half years, I think I’d like to know if…” If you moved on. If...there’s still a shot.

“No, Bucky, there were no others. Not since you,” Laila said gently. “I wasn’t interested and rare is the man that wants a woman with children, especially young children.” 

Neither saw Rogers glance up at Laila with an unreadable expression. 

“They’re yours, Bucky.” Laila held out her arms to Nora, who accepted the invitation and curled up in her lap. She stuck her thumb into her mouth and regarded Bucky with a knowing expression in her blue eyes. She sat with Laila for a few more moments, then extracted herself and toddled over to Bucky. 

Bucky, for his part, swallowed hard and stared at his daughter. He held his hands out and Nora let out a happy squeal and clambered up into his lap. She turned around and, babbling nonsense toddler words, began to explore Bucky’s black metal arm, patting it and the flesh one in turn and giggling at the difference in sounds. JB crawled into Laila’s lap, casting a dubious glance at Bucky.

“I named her Nora Elizabeth after my grandmother and I named him after his father.” 

Awkwardly, Laila got to her feet and carried JB down the hallway while Bucky carried Nora. He watched cluelessly as Laila changed both toddlers and got them into their pajamas. She deposited JB into Bucky’s arms and, holding Nora, read them a story. Nora was asleep before she finished and JB’s eyes were dropping. Laila stood up with Nora and walked her to her crib. 

Bucky took in the scene with reverence as Laila gently lay the sleeping toddler in the crib and covered her with her blanket. She placed a soft kiss on the girl’s forehead then turned and reached for JB.

“Let me. Please…” 

Laila smiled warmly and nodded. “Go ahead.” 

Bucky stood with JB, who was asleep in his arms and carefully carried the toddler to the crib. He was loathe to put the boy down, electing to stand by the crib for a few more moments with his son sleeping in his arms. 

Finally, he did, dropping a gentle kiss on the boy’s forehead. Laila planted a kiss in the same spot and guided Bucky over to Nora where he kissed her in the same spot Laila had. 

Laila slid an arm around his waist. “They’re a handful…” 

“I can’t believe I’m a father…” Bucky took in the sleeping toddlers, then turned to Laila. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there—“ 

“I know,” Laila said, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry I slapped you and I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Bucky cupped her face in his hands and kissed her and everything came back. The emotions, the connections… it all flooded back into Laila’s mind and she broke down again. She placed her head on Bucky’s chest and sobbed as he held her, whispering endearments into her hair. “Shh, I’m here, it’s okay…” 

Neither heard Rogers leave, hands clenched.


	12. Start Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I never did you right,_   
>  _I know that_   
>  _Too many sleepless nights,_   
>  _I own that_   
>  _I said it time and time_   
>  _I know that_   
>  _I want to try again_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Imagine Dragons, Start Over

They stood there, watching the twins sleep—and making sure they were asleep. As any parent knows, leaving before a toddler is fully asleep almost guarantees a woken child before the parent reaches their bedroom. 

Laila stood with her arm around Bucky’s waist for a few moments, savoring the feeling of his arm around her shoulders. Silently, she removed it but kept her hand in his and gently tugged him to follow her; he did so. 

Wordlessly, she led him to her room, then closed the door. Turning to Bucky, she put her hands on his chest. 

“Laila, I—I’m so sorry…” 

“You’ve said that already,” she whispered. 

“Please, please hear me out.” He leaned in closer. “I can’t possibly describe how sorry I am that I hurt you—“ He softly kissed her lips. “—but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.” 

“James—“ 

“Please...I fucked up bad and I don’t even know the right words to say to you to make it better.” He put a hand to her cheek and she leaned into it. “Please—“

And then he said the words that broke the last bit of Laila’s composure: “I need you—“ 

And Laila was lost. Lost to the current in the room, the want, the _need,_ the _**hunger**_ in the room. His need of her, her want of him, the hunger between them both. She wrapped her arms around him as he bent down and crushed her mouth with a ravenous kiss.

She was a feast after a famine, a draught after a drought and he couldn’t get enough of her. He held her to him and backed into the room as she guided him to the bed, kicking the door closed. They broke the kiss for Bucky to remove his A-shirt and for Laila to take off her top. 

Having reached the bed, Bucky sat down and pulled Laila to him; she pressed her chest against his as he fumbled with her black bra. He gave up after several seconds and ripped it off of her; she made a noise between a growl and a hiss and dug her nails into his chest. Bucky put her at arms length and Laila, suddenly self conscious, crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Let me see, baby,” he said gently while taking hold of her forearms and carefully moving them aside. Laila resisted at first, then allowed her arms to be moved to her sides. 

She stood topless in front of him, shame creeping into her face; she turned away, tears flooding her eyes. Bucky took in everything, the extra baby weight, the new sag to her breasts, the stretch marks decorating them and her abdomen, the scars from her injuries. He ran his hands over all of them, leaning forward to kiss them in turn. 

“Beautiful…” he murmured. Laila took his head in her hands and kissed the top of it, then held him to her chest. Bucky lightly licked a trail from where his mouth was on her abdomen to where the knife pierced her left side, then kissed it again, then traced his tongue to the scar where the bullet exited her torso and kissed that one as well. 

Laila straddled his lap and Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist then swung them so she was on the bed beneath him. “Fucking hell, you’re beautiful,” he breathed into her neck, dropping an open mouthed kiss on it. He sat up and slowly removed Laila’s shorts, revealing more stretch marks and the scar from the Cesarean. He kissed that, causing Laila to startle, then removed her matching black underwear. 

“Bucky—“ Laila gasped as he lowered his mouth to her slit; she arched her back, moving her hips against his face as he licked the sensitive bud then poked his tongue into her canal. 

He hummed into her and Laila felt almost three years of pressure and loneliness coiling up. “—James—!” She gripped handfuls of his hair and gasped out his given name as the coil shattered and she came undone under his tongue. 

Bucky sat up and grabbed his shirt, then wiped off his face. Laila lay on the bed, blissed out from her climax, a dreamy smile on her face. He crawled up next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured into her neck. 

“...I’ve missed you, too.” 

“I can’t apologize enough, baby, I can’t.” Bucky rolled Laila over so she was facing him. “For everything you had to go through because of me—“ 

“Bucky…” Laila held his head to her chest. “I tried to keep them from you...I’m so sorry.” She buried her head into his hair, tears coming to her eyes. “Please forgive me, I was so scared—“ 

Bucky sat up and stared into Laila’s eyes. “There’s nothing for me to forgive. I’m the one that’s begging here, baby doll,” he said with a smirk. “You did what you had to do, what you thought was right.” 

Laila sniffed. “You still had a right to know—“ 

Bucky gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s just acknowledge I did a shitty thing and I’m sorry for it.” 

“I’m sorry too—“ 

“Shh.” Bucky pressed a finger to Laila’s lips then followed it up with a soft kiss. “Let me give you this.” He traced his tongue down her chin and throat, kissing her chest between her breasts. Laila moaned appreciatively as his lips and mouth traveled to each breast in turn and lavished attention on each nipple. 

He ground his hips into her core, still sensitive from her earlier climax and Laila hissed and wound her hands into his soft hair. _What’s his secret?! I need it—_ Her thought was cut short as he kissed her navel, then moved his lips towards her clit again. He purposely avoided it as he nipped at her lower lips and came back up to meet her, shucking off his pants. 

Sinking into the cradle of her hips, Bucky pushed into Laila gently, as if she were made of a substance more fragile than the most delicate glass. Once he was fully seated in her, Bucky straightened up to take in the view. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered as he gave a gentle thrust. He closed his eyes, leaned forward and whined into the crook of Laila’s neck. “God I’ve missed you—“ 

“Tell me what you missed—oh!” Laila gasped as Bucky began thrusting slowly into her. 

“Your smell—“ Bucky inhaled the scent of her hair in through his nose. She smelled of sandalwood and argan oil. “The way you look under me, on top of me, beside me—“ He kissed the bridge of her nose. “Your taste—“ He kissed her passionately. “The sound you make when I surprise you—“ He thrust into her and she gasped. “The feel of you around me—“ She clenched down on his cock and he nearly came. 

“You’re everything to me, Laila—“ Bucky whispered softly. “You complete me.” He sat up, pressing a gentle thumb to Laila’s clit and rubbing it.

Laila reached back and grabbed the headboard as Bucky steadied her hips with his hands. He picked up his pace and Laila moved her hands from the headboard to his thighs. “Oh my god, Bucky—“ 

“That’s it, baby, cum for me—“ Bucky whispered. “Let me see you cum—“ He thrust harder into her as she arched her back and dug her nails into his thighs. “I need you to cum, baby—I’m gonna—“ 

His vision exploded and he saw white as she clamped down, cumming with him, her walls fluttering around his cock as he emptied himself inside her. “Oh god Laila, yes—“ He collapsed forward onto his elbows above her, dick softening then withdrawing, then rolled over into his side, taking Laila with him. 

Laila curled into his heat, too emotional to reply; she just wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself to him. She realized that she needed him, wholly and utterly so. She felt complete and safe in his arms, like nothing in the world could break them apart. 

Except a hungry baby. 

Actually, two. Hearing hungry baby noises, Laila wriggled out of Bucky’s arms and started towards the door, pulling what turned out to be his shirt over her head. Bucky followed, pulling his boxers on. 

Both twins were awake; the digital clock on the table read a little after midnight. JB was standing in his crib, babbling and trying to climb out towards Nora, who was sitting up and sniffling. Laila prepared two bottles and brought them to Bucky; he gave one to Nora, who lay back down and drank contentedly. JB, seeing his sister content, accepted his bottle and did the same. 

“They’re beautiful, Laila,” Bucky whispered. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her close and in silence for several moments while the twins fell back to sleep. 

Then he spoke: “Hey, want to see my kids?”


	13. Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yesterday_   
>  _All my troubles seemed_   
>  _So far away_
> 
>  
> 
> The Beatles, Yesterday

“James Buchanan Barnes, do you just—?!” 

Bucky blinked and then he realized what he just said. “What—no, I swear it’s not like that—I promise!” 

“You just _said_ you had other kids! Did you literally just _leave_ them?! They’ve got to be about the same age or younger than Nora and JB— and you fucking _left_ them?!” Laila bolted out of the kids’ room back to hers, mindful of the twins sleeping in their room, and began pulling on her own clothes. 

“Laila, baby, they aren’t _human_ kids!” Bucky walked over to his side of the bed and grabbed his pants. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his photo screen, then brought up pictures of Tripod and the other goats. “Goat kids, not human kids!” 

Laila stared at the screen and began to giggle. Her laughter was still infectious and Bucky began to giggle too. 

“Man, I was going to chew your ass out—I thought maybe you had cheated on someone with me and left your other kids—“ Laila bit back more laughter to avoid waking JB and Nora. It didn’t matter that the kids were down the hall and asleep; parents of toddlers know that any sound could wake the toddler, ensuring a night of misery for anyone involved.

“No, baby, no—there hasn’t been anyone since you—I promise!” Bucky wrapped an arm around her and giggled into her shoulder. “I still had to get a sitter, though—“ Both dissolved into barely contained giggles. 

Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Laila nodded. “Yeah I’ll see your kids. We’ll all go when it’s light out.” 

“I can live with that,” Bucky whispered. “For now, c’mere and let me show you how much I missed you again—“ 

———

Bucky woke before Laila, while it was still dark. He dressed and left the room, blessing his assassin skills as he snuck past the twins’ room and out the door. 

He appeared back at the apartment just before Laila awoke forty five minutes later with coffee, breakfast and a bag.

“What’s in there?” Laila asked when she was caffeinated enough to recognize its existence. 

“It’s for the kids. You’ll see when we get to my place.” 

——

“You live here?” Laila wrinkled her nose at the smell. The hut was in a clearing and it looked big enough to house exactly one person. 

“It’s bigger on the inside, I swear!” Bucky opened the door.

It was. Laila could make out a bedroom, a kitchen and a living area. It was an aesthetically pleasing mix of African traditional beauty and Wakandan modern technology, with hand made furniture supporting Wakandan slim appliances and electronics. 

JB immediately zoomed in on the technology, reaching up to grab at the computer. He missed and Bucky picked the toddler up and sat him on the bed, handing him a toy elephant. JB handled the colorful animal for a few moments before putting it down and pointing at the computer. 

“He’s very into technology. Anything that can be taken apart and examined,” Laila said. “The first thing he went for at the apartment was the alarm clock. He was very disappointed Wakandan technology didn’t break!” 

“Ooh, hold on then—“ Bucky picked up the elephant, an item he had procured from the farmers market that morning, and pressed a button on its belly. The elephant trumpeted and, when Bucky set it down on the floor, began to walk. JB’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates and he immediately slide of the bed to chase it. 

“Oh, he’s gonna break it—!” Laila moved to grab the toy but Bucky stopped her. 

“It’s a toddler toy. This one is meant to be broken. It’s how Wakandan kids begin to learn technology, from what the guy who made it said.” 

JB grabbed the elephant and picked it up. The elephant—

—fell apart. JB was left holding the body as the head, legs and tail fell into the floor. He dropped the piece and looked back at Laila and Bucky with a confused expression on his face. He looked at the pieces on the floor and sat down in a huff, his back to her. For a moment, Laila thought he was going to cry, but as she approached, she heard a click. 

JB had reattached a leg. The toy made a noise of triumph. JB squealed with glee. 

“It’s held together by magnets,” Bucky pulled out a piece of paper and sketched the toy and its components. “You press the button and let it do its thing, then it falls apart and the kid puts it back together. He can’t hurt it and the bits can’t get lost. If he takes too much time to put it together, the wireless activates and pull the pieces back to the body.”

“WOW. We seriously need these toys back home.” 

“I got Nora a goat one.” Bucky pulled out the goat and gave it to Nora. She stared at it dubiously until it bleated, then smiled. She cuddled it and it fell apart as well.

Contrary to her son, Laila’s daughter began to sniffle. She held the pieces out to Laila but before Laila could take them and show her how, JB swooped in, elephant made whole again. JB snatched the pieces from Nora and the girl watched, fascinated, as the boy held up the goat head and body. In a gesture Laila thought was hilariously reminiscent of a stage magician, JB held the goat head and body apart and allowed them to snap together. “Tada!” 

Nora’s eyes widened. She took the goat and picked up a leg and hesitantly held it close to the body. It clicked to the body and Nora giggled as JB cheered. “Yay!” 

And the next few moments were filled with Nora putting the goat back together with everyone else’s encouragement.

“Bucky! BUCKY!!” A child’s voice snapped Laila out of her wonder at the scene. She raised an eyebrow at Bucky.

“He’s a neighbor, I swear!” Bucky protested. He opened the door to an indignantly bleating blur of white. 

“I tried to stop him, Bucky, but he got out!” 

“It’s okay, Anathi, we were coming over anyways.” Bucky put his arm around Laila. “Anathi, this is Laila; Laila, Anathi. He’s my neighbor and he’s been showing me how to manage out here.”

Anathi stared at Laila, dumbfounded, then offered his hand, which Laila shook. “Nice to meet you!”

“You too—oof!” Something bumped into her leg and Laila looked down to see a three legged white goat staring up at her with a comically indignant look on his face. “And you must be—“

“Tripod! Hey, who’s my furry little buddy?!” Tripod turned and launched himself into Bucky, nipping his affection on the man’s face, neck and flesh arm. 

At the sound of bleating, both Nora and JB looked up from their toys. Nora saw Tripod and looked down at her toy, then back up. Tripod cocked his head at her and Nora leaned hers to the side in confusion. 

And with a happy squeal, Nora toddled over to Tripod and put her arms around his neck. 

And in that tiny room, Bucky felt like nothing could tear his family apart. Not even the end of the world.

———

“Buck, it’s coming. Probably tomorrow, but you all need to get back to the compound tonight.” Steve’s digital face blinked off. 

Time had gotten away from everyone; before they knew it, it was twilight. The computer had chirped and everyone had looked up, startled, from a game of mancala Anathi had been teaching.

“What’s coming, Bucky?” Laila asked quietly. 

“Steve didn’t tell you?” 

“Must be on a need to know basis,” Laila replied dryly, shaking her head. 

“It’s bad.” Bucky ushered his family—that word still seemed so foreign but so familiar to him—onto the hover car and they returned to the castle. 

Upon putting the twins to bed, Bucky insisted on dragging Laila to the team meeting, where Bruce Banner, Queen Ramonda, King T’Challa, General Okoye and other people Laila didn’t recognize were sitting. “She’s part of the team, even if she doesn’t have strength or powers or whatever. She still needs to know what’s going on.” 

Sighing, Steve assented, if only to get everything moving. Introductions were made and the one named Natasha smiled broadly at her. 

“Okay so what we know from Banner is that these...things, Thanos and these Chitauri are on their way. I’ve fought them, Banner’s fought them, Nat’s fought them but most of you haven’t. They’re good at fighting.” Rogers pulled up footage from New York City, long before Laila had lived there. 

She paled. The Chitauri was taller than a man with a large maw and dark skin like a rotted corpse. 

Steve continued. “The advantages are that they aren’t very strong unless they have enhancements and those enhancements are limited to the higher echelon. We have a semblance of a plan, we just need a large army.” 

King T’Challa spoke: “Based on what you have told me before, I can give you that army. Are you sure this is going to work?” 

“We won’t know until we’ve tried it.” 

“We are going to need non combatants off the battlefield,” the young king said, staring pointedly at Laila. 

She nodded shakily. “Yeah—Yes, your highness.”

———

The meeting was dismissed later at night than Laila would have liked. Bucky bade her to wait in the bedroom for him, then approached Rogers. 

“Steve, you gotta promise me something.” 

Steve sat checking over his itinerary. Bucky was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Anything, man.” 

“If something happens to me, you gotta look after Laila and JB and Nora.”

Steve turned to his friend. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, Buck.” 

Bucky sat next to Steve. “Something’s different about this one, Steve. Something’s off.” Without warning, he turned to Steve and grabbed the collar of his shirt. “PROMISE me, dammit. If something goes wrong and I...I don’t make it, please for the love of Bast, take care of my family.” 

Seeing the fear in his eyes, Steve nodded solemnly. “Yeah, okay, Buck, I’ll take care of them.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Nothing's going to happen to you, though.” 

Bucky didn’t believe him. 

———

Laila was barely awake when Bucky slid into the bed with her, wrapping an arm around her midsection and planting a kiss on the back of her neck.

He couldn’t shake this sense of foreboding, the premonition that something was going to happen to him. “Laila, baby… you still awake?” 

“...mmhmm…” Laila rolled over and curled into his heat. 

“I...I love you.” _I’m scared to lose you again, but I can’t say it. There’s so many things I want to say, but I can’t._

“I love you, too, James.” Sleepily, she planted a kiss on the underside of his chin. 

He rolled over onto her, dropping soft kisses onto her face and neck; she moaned and wriggled her hands to her underwear, removing it. Bucky removed her shirt, then his, then his pants. He kissed her throat, her neck, her breasts and her stomach as he slid down to rest his face between her legs. 

Laila gasped as he brought her to a soft climax with his lips and tongue. After she recovered, she gently pushed Bucky’s hips; he rolled over onto his back and Laila slid down his body. She pulled him into her mouth and soul, sucking on him until he was sure he’d already died. 

Right before he climaxed, Bucky pulled Laila off of him and tugged her up. She straddled him and with whispered declarations of love in each other’s ears, Bucky gently eased himself up into her, thrusting softly until he emptied himself into her with “I love you” on his tongue. It pushed Laila over the edge as she responded to his hushed affection with her own. 

Post coitus, Laila curled against Bucky and sleep came quickly for her, claiming her in a gentle wave.

It did not come easily to him. He slid out of bed to the twins’ room, picking them up one at a time and bringing them to the bed. With JB on his chest and Nora sandwiched between him and Laila, Bucky fell into a troubled, nervous sleep.


	14. Zombie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Another head hangs lowly_   
>  _Child is slowly taken_   
>  _And the violence causes silence_   
>  _Who are we mistaken?_   
>  _But you see, it's not me_   
>  _It's not my family_   
>  _In your head, in your head, they are fighting_   
>  _With their tanks and their bombs_   
>  _And their bombs and their drones_   
>  _In your head, in your head, they are crying_   
>  _What's in your head, in your head?_   
>  _Zombie, zombie, zombie_   
>  _What's in your head, in your head?_   
>  _Zombie, zombie, zombie, oh_   
>  _Another mother's breakin'_   
>  _Heart is takin' over_   
>  _When the violence causes silence_   
>  _We must be mistaken_   
>  _It's the same old theme_   
>  _In 2018_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In your head, in your head, they're still fightin'_   
>  _With their tanks and their bombs_   
>  _And their guns and their drones_   
>  _In your head, in your head, they are dyin'_   
>  _What's in your head, in your head?_   
>  _Zombie, zombie, zombie_   
>  _What's in your head, in your head?_   
>  _Zombie, zombie, zombie, oh_   
>  _It's the same old theme_   
>  _In 2018_   
>  _In your head, in your head, they're dyin'_   
>  _What's in your head, in your head?_   
>  _Zombie, zombie, zombie_   
>  _What's in your head, in your head?_   
>  _Zombie, zombie, zombie_
> 
>  
> 
> Bad Wolves, Zombie

The next morning, Bucky woke up early. _It’s today, I know it’s going to be today._ He double checked the connections on his prosthetic arm as Shuri taught him to do and performed function checks on his rifle, Laila’s handgun and shotgun. 

Laila was still asleep with the twins in the bed and he sat besides her on the bed. “Hey, baby. I know you’re asleep but I still hope you hear me. I love you guys and I wish we had more time together right now, but we don’t. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up but I’m afraid: I’m afraid of what may happen.” He carded his fingers through her hair then leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “If...if something does happen to me, Steve will take care of you three. I made him promise. I will do my damnedest to come back alive and in once piece but I can’t promise that.” He leaned over JB and Nora in turn and planted gentle kisses in their almost black hair and inhaled the scent of them. “I love all three of you; don’t forget me.” 

Then he pulled off his tags and once again, placed them in Laila’s hand and closed her fingers around them, then turned and left, closing the door with a soft click behind him. 

Laila’s hand clenched around the tags and tears welled in her eyes. She leapt out of the bed and chased after Bucky, not caring that she was in her pajamas. 

She caught up with him in the foyer and, heedless of who was watching, launched herself into Bucky’s arms with a cry of his name. 

“Come back to us, okay? Don’t you fucking dare die on me—“ Laila pulled Bucky’s face to hers and kissed him deeply; he returned the kiss with equal passion. 

She turned to Rogers: “Bring him back to us and I might apologize for pepper spraying you.” 

And before Laila knew it, the time went away and the call of duty rang, stealing Bucky away from her.

———

As Laila waited with Nora and James for news of the battle, she paced the room. 

She hated this. She was stuck in her room and something was happening that she couldn’t fix. She knew Bucky could handle himself and that Steve would watch his back but she also knew that anything could happen in battle.

She function checked her shotgun and her handgun exactly six times in ten minutes and made sure the diaper bag was filled with the children’s extra toys, clothes, snacks and diapers for a quick get away.

“MamaMAMAMAAA—“ Nora toddled over and held out her hands, demanding to be picked up. Laila did so, checking the girl for a dirty diaper. She was clean and Laila put her down. 

Sounds from the hallway made her turn her head and a growling and screeching sound made her lock the door. 

A snuffling sound outside of the door made her grab her handgun and shotgun and stuff the ammunition into her pockets as best as she could with the rest in the diaper bag, then she grabbed Nora from the floor and James from the couch and ran to the bedroom just as the apartment door crashed in. 

The fight had come to the castle.

She all but threw Nora and JB and the bag into the closet and locked the door to the hallway— “I’m sorry, mommy has to fight bad guys—“ and put herself between the door and the closet full of screaming children. 

“Mommy’s here, guys, I promise—“ The whispered reassurance quieted both the children miraculously and Laila backed up against the door. “It’s okay, guys—“ 

And then all hell broke loose at once. 

First, the bedroom door _crashed_ in.

Then the children started screaming.

Then Laila opened fire at whatever it was that burst through the door. It exploded in gore and viscera, and the one behind it saw its opening. The door bottlenecked the aliens or demons or whatever they were and they weren’t able to swarm her.

Laila opened fire again and again, killing demon after demon in showers of internal fluids and once the shotgun was depleted, she resorted to her handgun. 

The things—chitauri?— just kept coming. The bottleneck for the room prevented them from ganging up more than one or two at a time, but that was something Laila was running out on.

And then Laila ran out of ammunition. 

The remaining demon pounced, bearing her to the floor in a flurry of teeth and saliva. Laila used the shotgun as a bar and shoved it against its throat, trying to prevent it from ripping out hers. It was stronger than her by far and continued pushing against the shotgun and inching closer and closer to her neck. 

Just as it was closing in and Laila was sure it was over, the demon jerked. It let out a garbled noise and slumped to the side and Laila looked up to see Queen Ramonda standing over her with a spear in her hands. She was flanked by two guards and all three were covered in assorted colors of gore. 

“Are you alright?” One of the guards helped Laila to her feet while the other kept a vigilant watch for more. 

Laila went immediately to the closet and opened it—only to be smacked in the leg by a hanger. She looked down to see JB standing between the door and Nora, wielding said hanger and babbling angrily. “It’s mommy, sweetheart—“ JB dropped the hanger and both children scrambled into her arms. “I’m okay now, highness.” She wrapped her arms around both children and, with some difficulty, took them to the bed and placed them on it.

“Highness—?” Laila turned to see one of the guards holding up her hand. Ramonda stared with a horrified expression. 

The guard’s hand was fading. 

———

_What the hell is happening?!_

_“Steve—?”_

_Lai—_

———

Laila didn’t see the end result; she turned to JB and Nora. Both were sitting up on the bed and Nora was screeching and trying to grab on to her screaming brother. 

JBreached with rapidly dissolving hands towards Laila. She tried to pick him up, to hold him to her but her hands went through his chest. His frightened cry of “MA—“ was cut off and James Buchanan Barnes, Junior, was gone.

Laila barely registered Nora climbing into her lap and her arms wrapping around her terrified daughter. Without knowing what or how, Laila ran down the hallway, her ears barely registering the screams of other people. _I have to find Bucky—_

She burst out the door—

—into the arms of Steve Rogers. He was dirty, bloody and...stunned?

“Steve—Where’s—Oh my god—what’s happening?!” 

Steve didn’t say anything. Laila looked around, clutching Nora closer to her chest. She saw Natasha, Rhodes, and some other faces that she recognized but not… 

“Where’s Bucky? Steve—“ 

Finally coming to his senses, Steve looked down at the terrified woman that his brain said he knew, who was holding a child— _wait, didn’t she have two? Where was the boy?_

“Laila—“ Natasha whispered. She held her hand over her mouth once she realized what had happened. 

Laila looked into Steve’s tear stained face and paled. “Steve—“ 

“Laila, where’s JB?” Natasha asked quietly. 

“What HAPPENED?!” Laila screamed. “WHERE IS BUCKY?!” 

Steve Rogers enveloped Laila in his arms and whispered “I’m sorry” into her ear. She pulled back from him and searched his tired face for something, ANYTHING, to give her some kind of clue as to Bucky’s whereabouts. She looked around at the group of survivors; most were stunned but Natasha…

Natasha looked at Laila with tears in her eyes and shook her head. 

And then Laila KNEW. 

And Nora started crying again. 

Laila collapsed to her knees with Nora still in her arms and let out a guttural cry that joined the howls and keens of anyone else who had lost someone. Steve sank to his knees besides her and wrapped her and the toddler in his arms, too numb to do anything but hold Laila and Nora and whisper sobbing apologies into her ear.


	15. Epilogue

As the cleanup in Wakanda commenced with Ramonda at the helm, losses were tallied. 

Anathi was gone, all the goats scattered. Tripod was missing as well. 

King T’Challa, the girl called Wanda and the man known as Falcon were also gone. 

Laila refused to acknowledge the other losses. 

She stood in Bucky’s hut, holding Nora. There was nothing she could do; the sense of numbness set in. Quietly, she moved about the hut, running her hands over furniture. 

Her hands came to a stop over a set of dog tags and several pictures. Most were of the goats, but one was the Polaroid of her and Bucky in Romania. With tears in her eyes, she picked them up and put them in her pocket. She pulled the dog tags over her head. 

She went back to NYC, to her hole in the wall. Mrs Holmes was gone, Widow K was gone, Mr Nyugen was gone, all the tenants were gone except for Ms Holmes’s dog. The crotchety old thing died soon after Laila and Nora came back but he was ancient and decrepit and on his way out anyways. 

Laila still cried. 

Every night, she cried herself to sleep with Nora in her arms. 

It had been several weeks and Nora was still searching for her “bubba” and “dada”. She’d opened closets smiling like it was a game of hide and seek and Laila’s heart would shatter into a million pieces when the girl’s face would fall when Dada and Bubba weren’t in the closet. 

Laila wasn’t sure how much more loss she could take. 

One day, wallowing in despair, Laila sat on the floor holding Nora close after another disappointing game of hide and seek. 

A knock on the door brought her out of her misery. 

“Laila?” Steve’s voice was on the other side. 

“Come on in,” she called towards the door. 

Steve walked into the tiny apartment carrying a box of donuts and some coffee, which he placed on the table. 

Nora reached out her hands to the man, who picked her up and gave her a hug. Instead of demanding to be put down, Nora snuggled into him, as if she was terrified he would disappear too. 

“Laila, Tony and I were talking—“ 

“That’s scary,” Laila cracked a half smile. Tony Stark had returned, wounded, from wherever he had been. He had set up shop in his tower and refused to give up on everyone that was lost.

“—and we think you two should come to the tower.” 

“Steve, I…” Laila trailed off. 

Steve sat next to her on the floor with a glazed donut and offered her one. “Look, we’ve all suffered. We’ve all lost someone in this and that’s why we shouldn’t be alone.” 

Laila accepted the donut with a nod. Nora promptly claimed it and toddled off to the kitchen table with it. “I don’t want to impose…” 

“Clint’s moving in, too. He lost his wife and one of his kids. We could use more happy voices.” Steve held out the box of donuts and Laila selected another one. 

She smiled. “Okay.”


End file.
